


Day to Day

by Catwithabook



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-19 05:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14230575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catwithabook/pseuds/Catwithabook
Summary: The general insanity of dealing with running two businesses, raising two children and rebuilding the world.





	1. Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my computer for literally years. I pulled it out the other day and realized that the series of vignettes I had actually were generally arc shaped so I am now working on pulling them together into a more coherent fic. Should be interesting.  
> As always thank you to the lovely T who helped with the edits on this.

The broken glass glints in the sink. The last one that she’d had to wash and her shaky hands had claimed it. 

Tifa Lockheart sighs, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter and bends forward letting her arms carry her weight. It feels like the last straw. She wants to scream, but that would almost certainly wake the kids. She wants to leave the glass, let someone else worry about the danger and go to bed. She pushes that desire aside. There’s no one else here to take care of things, so really there’s no point in hoping. The shards click together in her palm as she slowly gathers them. It’s been a long week; longer still because she’s still not used to doing this on her own. 

It’s only been two weeks really. Fourteen days since she’s been alone with two children to care for. Since she’s had no real back up on the day to day.  
She can’t help but be grateful that it’s not two years ago, that they aren’t living from day to day trying to scrounge together enough scrap to start rebuilding. Because gods know what she would’ve done with Denzel in a tent. 

The boy bounced from seemingly fairly healthy to being unable to get out of bed. Tifa found herself checking him for the fever that heralded the worst of his symptoms daily, and when they kick in having a bathroom is infinitely preferable to not. 

It had been easier with Cloud – 

She hisses as her hand grips a sliver of glass too tightly, slicing into the pads of her fingers. She watches as the blood slithers down her hand. She fumbles the glass into the trash and then hastens to wrap her hand in a spare bar cloth. 

He had been gone for just two weeks and already she was starting to feel the pinch. Mostly in the amount of sleep that she can steal. She spends half her shifts craning her neck up the stairs trying to hear if the kids are ok, and she knows that her service and her reputation are suffering for it. She also knows that she really needs to go to sleep soon or she’s going to risk pulling her second all-nighter this week. She checks the cut on her finger. It’s small and not particularly deep, a careless nick that will be more annoying than anything else. She tosses the bloodied rag back into the kitchen. 

A glance around the room confirms that it’s as ready as she can make it for tomorrow and she flicks out the light. Just as she’s at the bottom of the stairs she hearts the telltale squeak of the bathroom door and Denzel’s attempts to hide his vomiting. 

She closes her eyes, the darkness behind her eyes entirely too inviting, then she hurries the rest of the stairs. Her limbs may feel like they are made of lead, but there is no way in all the hells that she’s letting that little boy go through this alone. 

“Den?” she carefully cracks the bathroom door open. Denzel Is crouched over the toilet, his eyes squeezed shut. She carefully pushes the rest of the way into the room and crouches next to him. 

“Hey,” he says. His voice is tiny and Tifa almost finches. 

“Not doing so well tonight, huh?” she reaches out and gently smooths his hair back from his face. He shakes his head and glances up at her. 

“Yeah,” he swallows hard before lunging towards the toilet again. Tifa grimaces and bites her lip. It is going to be a very long night; she rubs a hand up and down his back. Denzel coughs and slumps back against her. Tifa wraps her arms around him and simply holds him. 

“Think you can go back to bed?” she asks gently. Its hours later and her knees are stiff; the early morning light is creeping in through the small window. Denzel nods and she moves carefully helping him to his feet. It takes another forty-five minutes to get him settled into bed with a glass of water and bucket on standby. 

Marlene wakes up about halfway through the process and needs to be reassured that all is well and that there’s nothing that she needs to help with. 

When it’s done Tifa collapses into bed face first, arms star-fished and eyes already closed. She’s falling asleep in seconds. She knows distantly that she’s going to regret not taking a shower in the morning. But for now, sleep is an unavoidable consequence of too many hours up. And she can’t help by be a little grateful that it doesn’t give her any more time to think.


	2. Aftermath

And then comes the whole “reunion, Sephiroth is back and the whole city is exploding” mess. 

By the time the whole thing is over Tifa’s surprised the bar is still standing. Considering the fact that most buildings have at least some surface damage she almost feels like cheering when she leads the whole crew into an almost untouched 7th Heaven. The worst seems to be some dishes and other items jostled from shelves. 

The first few hours are general chaos. Joyous chaos, but chaos none the less. Tifa finds herself helping to patch up bystanders and party members alike, slapping together sandwiches and helping to wrangle the plethora of children that seem to have come out of the woodwork. 

It’s late evening by the time things slow down. The team sprawls out across the barroom, Yuffie sprawls forward asleep on one of the tables, Barrett with both Marlene and Denzel cuddled against him is snoring on the couch pilfered from their living quarters. Cid was slumps at the bar, a glass of whiskey curled in his hand. He’s slurring about something to Reeve who leaned against the bar watching him, shaking his head a small warm smile on his lips. Vincent was in the corner watching. His eyes tracking each of them. Red was sitting with Cloud. She’s can’t hear what they’re talking about, but they seem content. 

She smiles slightly. It feels a bit like old times, like gathering around a campfire. Like family. 

“Alright,” she says, making her way over to Barrett and the kids. “Let’s get you kiddos to bed.” She bends and captures Den under the arms. Marlene groans and tries to hang on to him. Barrett grumbles and hangs on to Marlene. 

Sorting out sleeping arrangements devolves quickly from there. Barret and Cid nearly come to blows over who’s going to get which sleeping bag. Eventually though, there are six sleeping lumps in the barroom. Eventually there are two children curled up in their beds. Eventually Tifa climbs the stairs and goes to bed. 

She showers and brushes her teeth and jumps when the door swings open to reveal Cloud standing outside in the hallway hand raised to knock. He looks just as shocked as she is. 

“Oh,” she says resting a palm against her chest. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, glancing down and away. “I was just wondering if I could steal a couple of blankets? I think the guys stole all mine.” She blinks and glances down toward the staircase. She vaguely remembers Barrett raiding upstairs to find more blankets. She sighs and glances toward her own bed, pilfered of all but its comforter.   
Turning back to Cloud she finds him looking awkward and small. 

“Well, I guess it’s share or be cold,” she says adopting the briskest, most business like tone she can manage. Cloud glances up at her sharply. There’s something in his eyes, a wariness that makes her wonder what he expects. 

She makes her way into the room without a backwards glance. She hopes he won’t choose to be cold. She draws back the comforter and slides on to the cool, clean sheets. Her bed feels like the most wonderful thing in the word, soft and warm and a relief after being on her feet for a good twenty four hours. 

Cloud stands in the door way for a few long moments, watching her settle. She’s surprised not to feel uncomfortable. But she doesn’t, much like she felt no constriction of her rib cage when she asked him to share her bed, it simply feels natural. He’s been a missing piece for too long. It would be strange to feel uncomfortable. 

He joins her in increments, approaching the bed and pausing, pulling back the covers, and pausing. Waiting for, she’s sure, a change of heart. An indication that she doesn’t want him here after all. 

He relaxes by degrees, exhaustion on comfort warring with his brain. And for all that she knows his brain can be a fearsome opponent she can feel the security of safety and familiarity winning out. She’s asleep before he is, his warmth seeping across the bed towards her; surprisingly welcome. 

She sleeps through the night. 

They all do. She wakes to the quiet grey light of early afternoon. Closing her eyes again she just breathes for awhile, inhaling the scents of her own home, safe and clean and secure for now. It’s novel to have time to be still. To get to just lay in the dim quiet of her bed room and let the world spin by without her having to do anything. 

Cloud sighs quietly in his sleep. She sifts a little and opens her eyes. He’s slack with exhaustion. She’d bet her best bottle of Wutian whiskey that he hasn’t slept much the last few weeks. The shadows under his eyes are dark enough that even a solid eight or so hours of sleep haven’t completely erased them yet. 

Even still. He’s a very pretty man, she thinks and then snickers to herself. Because, really, she hasn’t had time to think that in so long. She hasn’t had time or opportunity to really observe that it’s still true recently either. 

He snuffles and then as though feeling her gaze blinks awake. 

“Good morning,” she whispers. 

He lies absolutely still for a few seconds and then the corner of his mouth ticked up a few degrees. 

“Good morning,” his eyes flick down and away, and she smiles in return. 

“We should probably get up,” she sighs, half pushing herself onto an elbow so that she can check what the clock actually says over his shoulder. She flops back with a groan at the blinking 2:00pm. Clouds responding laugh is just barely audible, a huff of breath easily missed if you don’t know what to listen for. 

“Yeah ‘cause Yuffie and Cid’ll never let us here the end of it if they catch us,” he pulls himself into a sitting position, crossing his legs and ruffling fingers through his hair causing it to stand up even more than usual. 

“Don’t I know it,” Tifa shakes her head and tries to drag fingers through her own hair. They snag on a new knot and she pulls a face at the sharp tug against her scalp.   
With a groan she heaves herself upright and glances at the alarm clock on her night stand. 

“On second thought I’m actually stunned the kids aren’t up yet,” she stretches feeling muscles catch and ache with more use than usual. “Damn, I’m out of shape,” she grumbles, rubbing at a particularly sore point in her shoulder. Cloud grunts and his neck clicks in agreement. 

“Can the world stay saved for a few days,” he asks quietly. “I mean. Just a few.”

Tifa snorts. “That’d be a vacation,” she agrees. Cloud stands up. 

“I’ll go get the coffee started,” he says. He glances back at her. She can tell that he wants to say more but is not entirely sure what it could be. 

“Such as it is,” she pulls a face at the thought of the crappy instant coffee that has become the norm of late. Cloud laughs, another barely there huff of air and then heads downstairs. 

Tifa sits for a moment staring out the door. She wonders at the fact that that had actually happened. She’s was equal parts surprised and pleased. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Cloud now. Not sure where precisely he stood but this seemed like a good omen if nothing else. 

She heaved herself out of bed and began to dress quickly as the sounds of life began to filter up from the kitchen, the thump of a door closing. The clatter of dishes. The bang and then clamor of two kids barreling downstairs, fit to wake the dead. 

When she reaches the kitchen herself a few minutes later, pulling her hair back and up, she finds that Cloud has managed to commandeer the stove and start the kettle boiling.. Cid ‘s complaining about a head ache and Barrett seems determined to make him grumble more by talking progressively more loudly with the kids. Vincent is surprisingly talking with Yuffie. Quietly. And apparently enthusiastically. She shakes her head in amusement – will wonders never cease. 

She’s not surprised to see that Reeve has begged off; probably getting started on the clean-up already. Red appears to be still mostly asleep curled up on a pile of blankets, including Cloud’s comforter she notes, in the barroom. All present and accounted for then.

She moves to get started on breakfast and is laterally chased out of the kitchen first by Cloud, the by the kids, and finally by Cid. 

“Sit yer butt don. You did enough yesterday. Let the experts handle this!” He more or less shouts at her, head ache apparently subsided in favor of bossing people around. Cloud covers his smile with a hand but can’t quite contain his snort. 

“What’re you laughin’ at you –“ Cid tromps back into the kitchen tailed by Cloud and the kids. 

Much to her surprise, the four of them manage to produce a very passable breakfast of pancakes and bacon and eggs. Marlene, helped by Yuffie, even bullies Vincent into actually eating some. 

“Come on Vince! You’ve gotta try!” Yuffie pouts as Marlene giggles holding out an overloaded plate. Vincent sighs, looking aggrieved, but accepts the plate eventually. Tifa catches him looking speculatively surprised when he finally brings a forkful to his mouth. 

Tifa turns to go collect her own portion and almost runs into to Cloud. He offers her a cup. The murky dark liquid steaming gently inside smells just slightly too acidic for her usual tastes. But she accepts it with a smile. 

It feels like she’s home for the first time in a very long time.


	3. Late Night Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Painful subjects are finally addressed.

It’s late inching towards horribly early; the lights of Edge have long since dimmed down to street lights and the occasional insomniacal bedroom lamp. 

Tifa finds herself picking out these lonely pinpricks of light through the sheets of rain and the neon glare of her front window. 

The bar has been closed for just over two hours. The dishes are mostly done, the kids are long asleep, and she should follow them, she knows. But tonight she finds that she can’t quite face the thought of the dark and quiet of her bedroom. 

It’s nights like these that she misses Aerith most. When they had been traveling she had somehow seemed to know when any given party member had too much fodder for nightmares on the brain and would unerringly drag them into a discussion of anything from Midgar politics (Cid had ranted for an hour before simply faceplanting) to the technicalities of growing various species of flower (Barret’s look of polite interest had slowly dissolved into genuine enjoyment). But tonight Tifa is alone. With the rain and the time, the memories of long meandering conversations with a dearly departed friend are absolutely not helping her sleep. 

Sighing, she pulls herself to her feet, swaying slightly as the last 18 hours of wakefulness catch up with her. Climbing the stairs to the upper level is a challenge, the half formed thoughts and memories that jostle for position in her head are trending toward painful ‘what if’s’ and maybes. She idly drags her fingers through her hair, twisting the strands haphazardly into a braid. And then she goes and finds her phone. She stares mutely at it for a moment before hitting the number 1.

Three rings and she’s greeted by a sleepy, concerned, “Teef?” She’s gotten so used to the full nine rings and leaving a message that will never be replied to that she almost jumps.   
Inhaling, she pauses, unsure of what to say. He makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh, and the rustle of cloth cuts clearly over the speaker. 

“I- I’m sorry, were you sleeping?” She asks the quickly. Her brain catching up with the time and the fact that he hasn’t made it home tonight. 

“A little.” He replies. “What’s wrong?” 

She grimaces to herself. She had just wanted the comfort of hearing a familiar voice. 

“Ah- nothing really, I wasn’t expecting…” She trails off not quite sure if the topic is one they’re ready to broach quite yet. She swallows. 

He sighs, the static-y noise crackling across the speaker. “Yeah, guess that’s fair.” He pauses. “You sure you’re alright? It’s really late and you sound…” This time he trails off. She can hear the concern in his voice. And maybe it’s the late hour, or the rain or the isolation of being one of the specks of light still left on in the city, but she can’t feel guilty about it. 

“I’m… I can’t sleep.” She says simply. 

“Oh.” It could be curt, his reply, but she can hear him shift again; settling into listen she thinks. She pushes on because this is another topic she’s not sure of, but the combination of exhausting and pain make her brave, or stupid, enough to push on. 

“And it’s making me miss – “ She can’t quite say the name. It sticks on her tongue, thick and heard despite not being voiced. 

The pause is reaching an uncomfortable length and she’s about to rapidly say goodnight. Pretend that this had never happened, when - “I miss her too.” His voice is quiet and tight, as though the admission had been pulled almost unwillingly from his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” She blurts feeling her guts tighten. How had she even gotten this far? “I know-“ He cuts her off. 

“It’s ok. I’m pretty sure – “ he pauses again, and she can see his trying to figure out how to say things expression. “I’m better now.” He finishes. And she knows he’s not quite sure about that but that it’s more true than it used to be. 

“I’m glad.” She murmurs. “I –we- I’ve missed you.” She stutters because yes, the kids have missed him. But she’s missed having back up. She’s missed having a friend there to help with the day to day struggles. She swallows. 

“Yeah.” It’s not a dismissal, but an acceptance of the fact that he had somewhere along the line hurt them. “Listen. I’m only about half an hour out of Edge. If you want-“ He breaks off and leaves the offer hanging soap bubble fragile in the air. 

“Ok.” 

***

Cloud knows the layout of the new 7th Heaven well enough to not stumble over any of the bar stools or trip on his way up the darkened stairs. The building is quiet and just slightly cool, he can hear the dodgy air conditioner creaking somewhere behind him. 

He makes his way carefully down the hallway, thankful for the enhanced night vision because Marlene has developed a habit of leaving shoes and toys scattered across the hallway. 

He passes the kid’s door first cracking it open just enough to make out the fact that Marlene is flung across her bed, covers tangled somewhere around the foot. Denzel by contrast is curled into a ball almost completely obscured by his quilt. Shaking his head Cloud clicks the door closed and moves as stealthily as possible in his motorcycle boots to peer into the living room. 

Tifa’s curled into the corner of the couch, her head pillowed on her arms and her hair falling out of its braid and partially obscuring her face. Even from across the room he can tell that her sleep isn’t quite as peaceful as it seems. A delicate tension runs through her frame, as though her body hasn’t quite relaxed yet. Considering their earlier conversation, it’s not really a surprise. 

He sighs quietly, the barest pass of breath, before crossing the room and resting a hand carefully against her shoulder. She jerks awake, which he was honestly expecting. 

“Hey,” is all he says as he waits for her to settle. She shakes her head as though to clear it. 

“You want – “ she cuts him off. 

“You’re back,” the mild surprise should hurt more than it does. If the last few weeks have taught him anything it’s that what’s done is done and he needs to work on moving forward instead of staying stuck on the past. For all their sakes. 

“Said I would be,” he shrugs. He settles onto the other end of the couch, and reaches out snagging one of her feet. She hadn’t removed her boots so he begins to tug the laces loose. She blinks sleepily at him and then smiles slightly. 

“You don’t have to take care of me, you know?” she says as he drops her right boot to the floor and begins to work on the left. Cloud pauses fingers on her laces. He can see Marlene in the alley behind the bar, her eyes fierce as he promises to help take care of them all. He looks up at her. 

“No,” he says slowly. “But I think I want to. You know, fair play and all.” She blinks again, like she can’t quite believe it. 

“Guess that’s all right then,” she yawns. He drops her second boot to the floor and then leans over his own feet to deal with his boots. 

“You ok?” he asks quietly once he’s set his shoes to the side. Tifa shifts stretching couch strained muscles. 

“I’m glad you’re back. Thank you.” Her last word snags on a yawn. It’s the honesty of the overtired but Cloud can appreciate that. 

“I’m glad I could help.” 

***

He wakes to the sounds of giggling. 

The second thing he notices is that his pillow is moving. He hastily sits up trying to figure out exactly what was going on. 

Marlene and Denzel are crowded in the doorway of the living room, still in their pajamas, trying to muffle their laughter. 

And Tifa is sprawled next to him on the couch. It was her hip he’d been using as a pillow. Cloud swallows hard before carefully extricating himself from the couch cushions and tip toing over to the kids.

“Let’s let her sleep a little more,” he murmurs, and starts shepherding them out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Once there Marlene throws herself at him, it makes something warm swell in his stomach as he hugs her. 

“When did you get back?!” She asks grinning up at him as Cloud reaches out to wrap his spare arm around Denzel’s shoulders. 

“Last night,” he says as he sets her down. “Late.” He glances around the kitchen, wondering what he can make from breakfast that will not require too much mess or noise. 

“Is Tifa ok?” Denzel asks glancing towards the stairs. Cloud nods. 

“Yeah,” he pauses. He’s never been one to lie to the kids. He also if fairly certain that they’ll figure most things out if he doesn’t tell them. So honesty. “Last night was just rough for her. We fell asleep talking.” He shrugs slightly. 

“She was having nightmares?” Marlene asks her head tilting as she watches him. 

“Not exactly.” He begins to pull the necessary ingredients for eggs and toast out of the cabinets. He’s not the best cook but it’s still passable. 

“Was she missing someone?” Den asks. And Cloud glances over at the kid. And then nods. He cracks eggs into the bowl. 

It’s silent for a few minutes as Cloud works on breakfast. Marlene had pulled herself onto the counter and Den was sitting at the table his finger tracing idle patterns on the counter top. He’d just moved to place the first plate in front of Den when there’s a quiet creak of the stairs. 

They all turn as Tifa enters the kitchen. She glances around and then at the stove where another egg in a basket is cooking. Because Marlene had asked and apparently Cloud’s even willing to fight with fiddly breakfast foods for her. 

“Look who’s back!” Marlene enthused pushing off the counter and wrapping herself around Tifa’s shins. Tifa shakes her head. 

“Thank you for getting breakfast started. You could have woken me up though,” she adds as she grabs the kettle and fills it from the sink.

“Are you ok?” Den asks quietly. 

Tifa glances at him in surprise and then at Cloud. And then sighs. 

“I’ll be alright,” she says finally. “Last night was not the best. But between Cloud and you two I think I’ve got it covered.” She smiles as she bends forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. Den nods emphatically and Marlene beams. 

Well, that went better than expected, Cloud thinks. He wishes he could give the kids a bit more stability but, that also sells the two of them short at this point. They’ve been through so much together, that to wish them on someone else almost feels like a betrayal. 

They finish breakfast, talking quietly. Not about anything in particular, but the little things that happen when someone’s back is turned. The little things he misses when he’s away. Tifa relaxes into it. The quiet and comfort helping to ease the sting of a lonely night. He wishes he’d learned to accept it sooner. It could have saved so much pain in the long run. 

But he supposes that it’s a moot point now. And not something to dilly dally over. Not now anyway.


	4. Ghosts

It’s a few days after their late night conversation. Tifa’s still not sure what it means. Oddly enough, she feels like Cloud is more settled than he has been since he came back into her life 2 years ago. She can’t say that she doesn’t like the feeling. 

The gentle purr of a motorcycle engine sets off both the kids about half an hour before dinner, she can hear their excited chatter from the kitchen. Cloud’s response, however sounds exhausted. She hastily covers the pot of soup she’s been working on and hurries up into the living area proper. 

He looks odd. There’s something reminiscent of the haunted look he’d carried after Aerith’s death, his eyes just slightly too wide and holding back tears they never quite show. He also is clearly trying to keep up with the kids, something he never would have done the last time his expression was that much of a mess. 

“Denzel, Marlene dinner’s in 15 minutes. Come help set the table!” She keeps the command in her voice as she shoos the kids out and down the stairs. Cloud glances at her with relief and gratitude plainly written on his face and she feels her gut clench with worry. The kids clatter covers her next quiet question.

“Are you ok?” She asks, wondering if he’ll tell her anything that she could possibly use to help. 

He nods slowly. 

“Yeah. Just. Weird day.” He shakes his head, it’s sharp and looks like he’s trying to chase something away. She waits. 

“Mrs. Gainsborough called for a delivery,” his voice is so quiet she can barely make it out under Marlene yelling at Denzel to leave the rolls alone. 

“For me, us really,” he reaches into his pocket and removes a small envelope. Tifa stares at it for a moment. 

“What – “ 

He shakes his head. “Didn’t open it yet.” He says, his gaze fixed on the inoffensive square of paper cradled in his hands. 

And she hears the ‘I couldn’t. Not on my own’ underneath.

“Do you want to?” 

Cloud swallows then nods again before holding out the envelope to her. 

She takes it like it has an edge and could slice her hand open with a touch. She works a finger under the tab and pulls out two sheets of paper. The first is a note.  
Tifa licks her lips and then begins to read quietly. The kids are laughing about something down stairs. 

“Dear Cloud and Co, I found this in a boot and felt that it might be appreciated. Best to all, Elmira.” Tifa glances down at the second sheet and her breath catches. It’s a photo.  
Aerith looks so very young clad in a blue and white sundress her eyes are sparkling as she laughs at the tall dark haired man beside her. Tifa’s not sure if they were aware of the photograph being taken, neither of them are looking. 

“Oh.” She glances down at Cloud who’s looking at the image like he’s seen a ghost. Tifa swallows, watching. He stands absolutely still, his fingers curled into his palms, staring. Tifa reaches out without thinking, her free hand wraping around his forearm. 

“Cloud?” she asks quietly. He draws a shaky deep breath, and then looks up to meet her eyes.

“I’ve never seen them together,” he says quietly. Tifa glances back down at the picture. Her eyes trace over the picture. Zack and Aerith are standing in the church, distinctly less beat up than she has ever seen it. Aerith’s head is tilted back and to the side to meet Zack’s gaze. He looks, Tifa almost giggles as she thinks it, utterly besotted. And so horribly young. 

“They’re so young,” she murmurs. Cloud makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat.

“What’s that?” Marlene’s voice breaks through the moment shattering it like a dropped glass. She bounces over and leans in to gaze at the faded picture in Tifa’s hand. She gasps.

“Aerith? Where did you get it?” she glances up at them her eyes wide and excited. Dezel slips over and peers at the picture as well. Tifa opens her mouth to respond to Marlene’s question, when Cloud beats her to it.

“Elmyra found it. Not sure where though. I’m guessing one of the Turks took it.” Marlene nods.

“Who’s he?” she asks reaching out to touch the edge of Zack’s printed hair. 

The silence stretches for a few long moments before Cloud answers.

“That’s Zack. He was my friend when I worked for Shinra. He was killed before I met you and your dad.” Marlene nods solemnly. 

“Guess we should find a frame for it.” Denzel says quietly. “I mean we don’t want it to get hurt, right?” Cloud nods his face is clearing slightly. 

“Will you tell us about him some time?” Marlene asks. Den nods in agreement. 

“He looks cool.” He adds. Cloud laughs quietly. 

“He’d like that you said that,” he snickers, and then smiles don at the kids. “Yeah. I’ll tell you about him. But,” he pauses. “Can you wait to ask? I know you’re curios, but it’s still,” he grasps from the right word. “It’s still sore. I need to think about it."

Which is more words than Tifa’s heard him string together about his feelings in about as long as she can remember. 

Both kids nod solemnly. And then they scramble off to get to dinner. And Tifa holds the photo out to Cloud. He takes it delicately. 

“We really should get a frame for this,” he looks at her, the barest edge of a smile curving up the corner of his mouth.

Tifa nods in agreement.


End file.
